


choke me like you hate me (but you love me)

by spacegirlkj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Barebacking, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirlkj/pseuds/spacegirlkj
Summary: It starts with this: Hinata, alone in the apartment, counting the minutes until Matsukawa arrives. Leaving the bedroom door ajar. Leaving a trail of clothes on the floor. Not bothering to hide under the covers as he wraps his hand around his cock and lets his head fall back. Touching himself alone is much more exciting with the added source of revenge— setting himself up to be caught.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 12
Kudos: 174





	choke me like you hate me (but you love me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lalathebambi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalathebambi/gifts).



> yes the title is from a corpse husband song yes we are all simping no i will not elaborate further  
> ive missed writing my rarest of rarepairs. enjoy with me cockslut hinata and matsukawa, the daddiest of daddies, i guess. i hope you enjoy lala!!!

It starts with this: Hinata, alone in the apartment, counting the minutes until Matsukawa arrives. Leaving the bedroom door ajar. Leaving a trail of clothes on the floor. Not bothering to hide under the covers as he wraps his hand around his cock and lets his head fall back. The choice to get himself off is half calculated and half chaos. Hinata’s been keyed up since he woke up that morning, and Matsukawa’s long list of errands didn’t exactly leave much time for working through that frustration. Touching himself alone is much more exciting with the added source of revenge— setting himself up to be caught. 

Though he isn’t really trying to get off, Hinata can’t bring himself to go slow. He bucks his hips up into his hand and lets time fade away, until all he can think about is the mounting pleasure that coils in his gut. Matsukawa’s name falls from his lips, both in a whine and a whisper. Slick fingers tease at his hole, pumping in and out in a steady rhythm, curling at his prostate. Eventually, he works himself up to the point where he doesn’t even notice the door open, doesn’t hear Matsukawa drop his keys, doesn’t look to see Matsukawa entering with an iced coffee in one hand and a tote in the other. The bag falls to the floor with a dull _thud,_ startling Hinata’s eyes open in time to watch Matsukawa take a long, drawn out sip of his coffee. 

“Having fun there?” he asks, not yet smiling, one eyebrow raised. Hinata stops moving his hand despite the curl of arousal that pools in his stomach. Matsukawa’s voice is rich, full bodied and dark, carrying with it the bitterness of the same coffee he drinks. Hinata pushes his cheek into the pillow, letting out a strained whine. 

Matsukawa clicks his tongue. “Now, that’s not how you answer me, baby boy.” He takes a step closer to the bed. “We have rules. Are you gonna follow them?”

It’s Hinata’s out— a question to gauge his interest in where their scene is headed. Hinata expected it, prepared for it, knows that Matsukawa will be done being careful the moment he answers. So, with a subdued nod, he pulls his face from the covers and meets Matsukawa’s eyes, and plays by the rules.

“Yes,” he mumbles, biting his lip.

“Yes what?” Matsukawa asks, finally sitting down on the bed.

“Yes _daddy.”_

Hinata’s blush is fierce. No matter how many times he calls Matsukawa by his bedroom title, he can’t suppress the flutter inside of his chest. Matsukawa hums in appreciation, taking another sip of his drink before setting it down on the bedside table. “And what’s our rule about touching yourself?”

 _Our rule,_ Matsukawa said. Hinata squirms as the consequences of his actions weigh down on him. “Not without permission,” he mumbles, eyes darting away. 

Fingers reach forwards to brush his chin, pushing it up so that Hinata faces Matsukawa once more. “And did you have permission?” 

Hinata shakes his head in response, earning him the click of Matsukawa’s tongue. “Use your words, baby.”

Hinata whimpers, watching Matsukawa’s smile grow wicked. “N-no,” he stammers, sure that his plan is slipping away from him. 

“Then why,” Matsukawa asks, grip tightening on Hinata’s jaw. “Did you do it?”

Hinata fights against Matsukawa’s hold, gasping as his nails dig into his cheek. There isn’t a good answer— that he was bored, that he wanted to see Matsukawa angry, that he _likes_ being punished. All will result in the same thing: Hinata being put in his place. Knowing this, Hinata lets himself relax against the sheets, and smiles as wide as he can with Matsukawa’s hand still holding his jaw firm. 

“Because I wanted to,” Hinata tells him, sliding his legs up and down the sheets. With his arms resting above his head, they’re the only part of him that’s free to brush up against Matsukawa’s thigh, to tease him through the confines of his jeans. The twitch in Matsukawa’s eye is worth what comes next, the ache under his skin as his boyfriend’s grip grows painful. Hinata closes his eyes and hums, waiting for the moment that Matsukawa snaps. 

It never comes. Instead, the quiet calm of Matsukawa’s anger ebbs further only to push Hinata face first into the pillows. It’s not as rough as Hinata knows him to be, and his hand leaves Hinata’s jaw the moment his head touches the sheets. But when Hinata lifts his chest up to see what Matsukawa is up to, he’s pushed down again, this time, held securely in place.

“You’ve been a bad boy,” Matsukawa tells him, holding him down by the nape of his neck. 

“Sorry, daddy,” Hinata says. The pillow muffles his voice, the apology smothered alongside it.

Matsukawa slowly removes his hand— this time, Hinata doesn’t make a move. Warm breath blows across Hinata’s neck, an exhale tickling his ear as Matsukawa lowers his lips. “I don’t think you are, baby.”

The whine that escapes Hinata rings high pitched and clear in his own ears. It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm when Matsukawa pulls away, to keep himself blinded by his own bed. He can tell where Matsukawa is headed just by the sounds of his footsteps. When the wooden chest at the end of their bed creaks open, the hair on the back of his neck rises. It’s embarrassing, somewhat, how easily Matsukawa can command his reactions without even sparing him a second glance. Maybe it’s the knowledge of what lies in the chest— chains and leather and vibrators of all kinds. There’s no giveaway to what Matsukawa could be grabbing besides the slight rustle of the chest’s contents, no obvious noise to suggest him grabbing one toy or another. All Hinata can do is wait, patience waning with every second that passes with him untouched. 

Eventually, the mattress dips as Matsukawa sits back on the bed. “Turn over,” he commands, voice stronger now, less gentle. Hinata does as instructed, flipping himself over to look up at Matsukawa. Mirth filled eyes gaze down at him as he spins his exploits around one finger— pink leather handcuffs with a matching fur lining. Hinata’s favourite. 

“Arms above your head,” he says, scooting closer. Hinata takes his time moving, not yet wanting to give into Matsukawa’s demands without a fight. Matsukawa’s smile doesn’t vanish— instead, it grows. His eyes follow the flush down Hinata’s cheeks to his chest, to the lines between his hips and the arousal that sits between them. That, among other things, is sure to give Hinata’s excitement away. 

Matsukawa fastens the restraints with practiced ease and little flourish, utilitarian in his movements. The chain that connects them withstands the tug of resistance Hinata gives it. It’s more his own knowledge than anything else, a reminder that no matter how much he struggles now, there’s no escaping his _daddy_. 

“Back on your stomach,” he tells him. Hinata bites his tongue as he flops back over, this time, propping himself up by his elbows. Matsukawa tugs a pillow down from the headboard to support Hinata’s chest, then pushes him down to lean on it. Like this, Hinata can lie flat without his face being engulfed by the bed. Like this, every sound Hinata makes is Matsukawa’s to hear. 

The cool press of leather to the curve of Hinata’s ass isn’t what he expects. His hips jump in response, earning him the slightest of taps on the thigh. When Hinata looks back, it’s to see Matsukawa holding his riding crop in one hand, lazily dragging it across Hinata’s skin.

“We’ll start with ten hits, and if I don’t think you’re sorry by then, we’ll do ten more,” he drawls, tapping the crop on Hinata’s outer thigh. “What do we say, baby boy?”

Hinata hums into the pillow as his stomach drops in anticipation of what’s to come. “Thank you, _daddy_ ,” he sings. 

The first hit comes down without warning, the _crack_ of leather meeting skin splitting the room. Hinata jumps in surprise only to be pushed down by a hand on his back, held still as the second hit comes down. Pain sparks over the impacted skin, stinging in the kind of way that’s tight, like a pinch that doesn’t fade. Hinata releases a breath and drops his forehead to the pillow, already wincing at the familiar shock.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to hiss mere seconds before Matsukawa brings the crop back down on the same patch of skin. 

A low chuckle rumbles, distant thunder of a storm to come. “That’s for me to decide,” Matsukawa reminds him. One hand rakes down his back, nails only a faint distraction. 

The next few hits come without pause, strewn across the unmarked skin of Hinata’s backside. Hinata curls his toes and bites his lip, unsure how else to deal with the pain that hasn’t quite reached his head yet. The noises that fall from his lips are strained by layers of teeth as he hisses into the sheets. There’s no doubt that Matsukawa sees him struggle against the restraints binding his wrists, forearms flexing as he tries to move. It earns him the bare palm of Matsukawa’s hand, smacking the already sensitive marks from the crop. Hinata chokes on his own breath and squirms as if it were possible to escape. **  
** “Stop moving,” Matsukawa warns him, bringing his hand down again. “And _take it.”_

Hinata squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, daddy,” he mumbles, words trembling as the crop kisses his skin again, harder than ever before. It comes down once more, branding Hinata’s skin with a fresh bout of pain. 

“That’s ten, Shou.” Matsukawa’s voice is a near purr, soft and sultry as his fingertips trace over the welts peppered on Hinata’s ass. “What do you think?”  
“I—I’m sorry.”

Hot breath fans out over the back of Hinata’s neck. “No, you’re not.” 

Matsukawa reaches down, fisting one hand into Hinata’s hair to yank his head back. Hinata hisses, letting himself go limp instead of fighting to save his scalp. The next hit comes before he can appeal to whatever scrap of mercy Matsukawa retains. The sharp pain on already swollen skin leaves Hinata gasping, incomprehensible pleas falling from his lips. The crop digs into his skin in ways that have him twisting his eyes shut, holding his breath against each jolt of pain. It stews inside his stomach, fizzling down to the head of his dick, still hard between his thighs. Matsukawa hits him again, and the moan Hinata could barely contain falls from his lips, torn from his throat.  
“Of course you fucking like this, don’t you?” Matsukawa murmurs, grip tightening in Hinata’s hair. Hinata doesn’t answer, still reeling from the hit Matsukawa lands near his thigh. 

_“Haaaaaah—”_  
“That’s not an answer, baby,” Matsukawa laughs darkly. “Don’t bother lying, unless you want me to leave you here like this.”

Biting his lip, Hinata forces air into his lungs and blinks the fog from his vision. “I like it…”

 _Crack._ The crop cuts through the air and bites Hinata’s ass, stinging pain rounded out by a throbbing ache. The leather tip of the crop lingers, smoothing over each welt, each broken bruise. “You like it? You like when daddy puts you in your place?”

Hinata finds himself nodding without meaning to. “Want it— want it—”

The crop swings down again, and Hinata chokes on his words. Matsukawa lets go of his hair and lets him fall forwards only to pin him to the pillow, one hand splayed out over the back of his entire neck. “I know you do, Shou. But we have rules for a reason, and you decided to break them _all_ on your own.”

The pillow muffles Hinata’s cry of dismay, muffles the hitch in his breath as Matsukawa hits him again, and again once more. Each hit brings more force than the next, brings a new wave of pain to the ever present buzz that’s yet to leave Hinata’s mind. Without shame, Hinata ruts down onto the sheets, desperate for any kind of relief. If Matsukawa notices, he makes no move to stop Hinata, content to watch him writhe under the leather of his crop. Hinata’s toes curl with the next series of hits, fists clenching and unclenching as Matsukawa holds nothing back. By the end of the flurry, Hinata can’t think of much else besides the searing pain deep in his ass and the pit of desire growing by the second. His limbs hardly feel like his own, dead weight that pulls on the edges of his consciousness as Matsukawa grabs a handful of his ass and squeezes. Insult to injury, and Hinata moans again, high pitched and strained. 

“And that’s another ten,” Matsukawa says, letting go of Hinata’s neck. Hinata turns his cheek, panting as fresh air meets his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Matsukawa’s grin, the darkness in his pupils swollen to an impossible degree. Hinata wants to be consumed by that darkness, to be engulfed by the edges of Matsukawa’s existence and swallowed whole. Perhaps it comes across as a whimper, or some kind of cry, because Matsukawa shakes his head and runs a hand along the length of Hinata’s spine.

“How about now? Think you’re sorry?” Matsukawa asks him, still trailing the crop over one cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Hinata whispers, voice a shock to his own ears. It wavers and breaks, edged by a kind of tearful self pity that makes him almost shameful. “I’m sorry, I promise— I just— I wanted—”

“I know baby. You wanted to feel good, but you forgot what’s most important,” he tells him. Hinata continues to babble, a litany of apologies that fall upon a man who no longer cares what he thinks. “That this is only for me. That all your orgasms are mine, and that _I’m_ the one who gets to decide when they happen.”

 _“Please,”_ Hinata groans, closing his eyes in what could almost be a prayer “Please, please daddy _please…”_

Matsukawa presses a kiss to the nape of his neck before his touch vanishes. Hinata hears the crop be set down on the nightstand before Matsukawa’s touch returns, both hands resting on his hips and uttering a single command.

“Up,” he says, voice leaving no room for question. It takes every ounce of strength for Hinata to prop himself up first onto his elbows before pushing back onto his knees, gingerly setting his abused behind down on his heels. The tortured skin pulls over his muscles as he bends, kneeling still facing the headboard, handcuffed hands in his lap. Matsukawa is quick to adjust him to his liking, lifting Hinata without issue and turning him so that they sit face to face. 

For the first time since he was pinned to the bed, Hinata gets a good look at his boyfriend. Matsukawa’s skinny black jeans leave little to the imagination, cock straining at the boundaries of his pants’ seams. The urge to reach out and squeeze his cock and watch Matsukawa’s eyes roll back simmers somewhere else in Hinata’s mind, in the part of him that always wants to cause more trouble than what it’s worth. Instead, he licks his lips, only looking up when Matsukawa chuckles. Long, elegant fingers work open the buttons of his shirt, revealing the pale expanse of Matsukawa’s clavicles. Hinata thinks he might know those hands better than anyone else, even Matsukawa himself. They trail down his chest before reaching his belt, working it loose. As if anticipating the twitch in Hinata’s bound hands, Matsukawa clicks his tongue. 

“Sit still. You’ll get your turn soon enough,” he promises him, dropping the belt onto the floor.

“Yes daddy,” Hinata mumbles, watching transfixed as Matsukawa unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock from within. Swollen and hard, a bead of precum leaks from the red tip and drips down the shaft. Hinata looks up to meet Matsukawa eyes only to find him smiling, reaching forwards with his free hand to grab Hinata by the shoulder and pull him forwards. Unable to properly catch his fall with his hands, Hinata tips forwards until his nose collides with Matsukawa’s arms, his dick pressing up against his cheek. 

“You know what to do,” Matsukawa tells him, curling one hand into Hinata’s hair as he leans back. “Make it up to me, baby.”

Hinata doesn’t hesitate any further. Tongue darting out, he licks up the side of Matsukawa’s dick until he reaches the head. He lets his drool dribble out from his lips and over Matsukawa’s dick, smearing it with much needed wetness even if it means coating his own lips in spit. Hinata couldn’t care less what he looks like now as he takes the first few inches into his mouth, savouring the heavy weight of Matsukawa on his tongue. He hollows out his cheeks and sucks, bobbing his head back to tongue at his slit until he feels Matsukawa’s grip tighten in his hair. Still giving him the leverage to move on his own accord, Matsukawa hums as Hinata sinks deeper, working his tongue along the underside as he takes more and more of him into his mouth.

“That’s all you really are, hm? Daddy’s little cockslut,” he says, finally pushing Hinata’s head lower. Hianta tries to adjust, only to be left gagging as Matsukawa forces him down further. “I bet everyone knows it, just looking at you. You have it written all over your face.”

Hinata sucks in a breath through his nose as it reaches Matsukawa’s pubic bone, throat stuffed full with dick. He stops his stomach from rising up in his throat and swallows around Matsukawa, doing his best to work his tongue with the little movement he’s allowed. Matsukawa jerks his hips upwards, fucking Hinata’s face down in time with each shallow, torn thrust until Hinata’s eyes roll back, jaw unhinged. He almost doesn’t realize Matsukawa has pulled back until his cock leaves Hinata’s tongue, until Hinata’s pulled up by his hair.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Matsukawa tells him, already throwing Hinata down onto the bed. Hinata’s ass blossoms with another round of pain and discomfort that only serves to make his dick impossibly harder. Matsukawa is quick to flip him over, nearly stealing the wind from Hinata as he’s manhandled with his face in the bed, ass in the air. He’s thankful in that moment, that he had been fingering himself open before, that all Matsukawa has to do is smear lube onto his cock and spread Hinata’s legs apart. He doesn’t think he could stand to wait to be properly stretched, doesn’t think that he could last with Matsukawa’s all too knowing fingers that deep inside of him.

But Matsukawa’s cock is big, big enough that all of Hinata’s fingering does little to ease the stretch as he pushes past Hinata’s tight rim. Matsukawa doesn’t bother going slow, either. He reaches forwards to hold Hinata’s bound hands above his head with one hand, the other gripping so tight onto the tender skin of Hinata’s ass that Hinata nearly sees white. Every _slap_ of his hips against Hinata’s ass brings a new singe of burning pain, one that registers in Hinata’s brain as the sweetest of pleasures. As Matsukawa’s dick splits him open, Hinata lets out the most broken of sounds, each lulled from somewhere deep in his chest. 

“Can you even hear yourself? You’re begging to be fucked, aren’t you?” Matsukawa says, leaning down to bring his lips to Hinata’s ear. His tongue licks up the side, dipping inside the shell as he thrusts forwards. “Is this not enough for you, baby boy?”

“No—yes— Daddy— daddy _fuuccck…_ ” Hinata moans. Words no longer serve their purpose; they’re all just sounds that fall off of Hinata’s tongue, all meaning the same thing. Hinata’s dick bobs against his stomach every time Matsukawa drives his cock deeper. His body jolts up the mattress with the force of it, the headboard making rhythm with each thrust— _thunk, thunk._ It pounds like Hinata's heart in his ears, blood rushing from his head to his cheeks to his chest to his dick, so hard that Hinata doesn’t know what to do. His legs nearly slip out from under him, shoulders pressed firmly to the bed as his back arches just to keep his ass in the air. Even his muscles have begun to tremble with the exertion it takes to keep himself upright. 

Some semblance of pity must strike Matsukawa’s heart. In a smooth, well practiced motion, he pulls out from Hinata and pushes him onto his back, lifting up one of his legs before thrusting back in again. Hinata’s arms lay useless above his head, his lower half a mess of pain and pleasure that blends together, indiscriminate of which sensation is which. What Hinata mistook for pity was something else entirely— Matsukawa hooks his elbow under Hinata’s knee and pushes him open further, eyes wild in delight when Hinata’s face screws up in pain. There’s no escape from the aftermath of the punishment, even as Hinata gets what he wanted in the end. Matsukawa fucks him through every stab of pain and locks their lips together, eats up every cry that could otherwise break through. 

Hinata’s mouth falls open, useless for kisses, useless for much else than gaping around sounds and Matsukawa’s name. With a groan, Matsukawa spits into his mouth, latches onto his neck with his teeth and bites. Hinata clenches around him and feels Matsukawa groan against his neck in response, his hips not even stuttering for a moment. 

“Issei…” Hinata murmurs, his first name slipping out in a moment of sheer ignorance. “Close…”

A hand snakes up Hinata’s chest, leaving his side to rest along the crook of his neck. “Daddy’s got you baby,” Matsukawa hums, “Daddy’s got you.”

His fingers tighten around the column of Hinata’s throat, pressing down on either side of his neck. The pressure grows and grows until Hinata can taste his own pulse, thrumming against Matsukawa’s fingers. He can’t be sure how long he stays like that, eyes unseeing and open, fixed on the shadows in Matsukawa’s eyes with pleasure coiling in his gut. All it takes is for Mastukawa’s hips to shift into a perfect position for Hinata to fall over the edge. Cum shoots up onto his chest, nearly splattering against his chin, but Hinata doesn’t even notice. Masukawa fucks him through it, his grip loosening on Hinata’s throat until all that’s left for him to do is chase his own release.

The waves of overstimulation leaves Hinata sweating, panting as oxygen flows back to his head in a rush that mirrors that of his orgasm. Through hazy eyes he watches Matsukawa swear, brows furrowed in concentration as he loses himself to Hinata’s tight heat. His thrusts grow shorter, grow shallow, cock throbbing against Hianata’s walls in the moment before he spills deep inside of him. Matsukawa finishes with a groan that rumbles through Hinata, warm and comforting through the veil, as comforting as the lips that press to his forehead as his hips still.

“Jesus,” Matsukawa mumbles after a long pause. He slowly draws his hips back, cum leaking out from Hinata’s ass as he pulls out. “You really needed that, huh?”

Hinata closes his eyes, humming with delight. He takes pride in the rasp of Matsukawa’s voice, knowing if he attempts to speak, his own will be much worse. Sheets be damned, he sits in their mess a little while longer as Matsukawa begins to familiar motions that follow each scene. Even without opening his eyes, he knows what’s to come. By the time he’s wiped down and rolled onto his front, Hinata has almost completely drifted off into sleep, sated and satisfied for another day. This is where they stay, Hinata’s head in Mastukawa’s lap, his freakish hand working into Hinata’s hair, the entire world a stranger to the moment of peace that begins and ends with them. 

**Author's Note:**

> want more? find me on twitter @lesbianiwaizumi! thank you for reading, and as always, comments and kudos are much loved. take care!


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